The Spirit of Christmas
by fiona d
Summary: Veronica Mars gets the Dickens treatment when ghosts of Christmas past, present and future come to visit her on Christmas Eve. Some Logan/Veronica, Veronica/Weevil, if you squint.
1. Chapter 1

Written for vm_santa in 2007

***

"You're sure you can't come?" Mac asked Veronica with a disappointed pout. "I mean, I know you and Logan are still a little weird with each other, but it should be fun. And you won't even be his only ex there. Parker's coming and she had just as bitter a break-up with him as you did."

Veronica smiled, leaning back into the comfy second-hand couch Mac and Parker bought for their place. For sophomore year, they decided to live off-campus and found themselves a nice, if slightly ramshackle, apartment a few blocks from campus. Both girls added their decorative touch so that it now seemed like The Princess Diaries crossed with The Matrix. But somehow, it still worked.

"It's not the Logan-thing. Really. It's Christmas Eve. I just want to curl up with my puppy and my dad, watch Linus explain Christmas to Charlie Brown, and eat cookies until I go into sugar shock." It was only a small lie. The truth was, even if she didn't spend every Christmas Eve doing just that, she still wouldn't go to Logan and Mac's 'Rate Your Ass' Christmas party. She would do almost anything for her best gal pal, but she drew the line at publicity parties where her ex-boyfriend would be doing live webcasts rating partygoers asses.

"I forget, you have a parental unit you actually enjoy spending time with." Mac grinned, and flopped back on her beanbag chair. "Guess that's just more asses for me and Parker to rate."

"It's hard work, but those asses won't rate themselves."

"You'd think that, but Logan and I found Dick creating fake profiles just so he could give his own ass ten stars over and over. He even commented a few times."

"Let me guess, the words 'rockin'' and 'tight' were used liberally."

"'Asstastic' seems to be his favourite description so far. But 'bun-o-licious' has been making it's way up the charts."

"You're making money on this venture, right? Lots and lots of money?"

Mac grinned. "Enough to cover the years of therapy. I've made sure."

"That's all I wanted to know." She stood up with a groan. "You have fun with the asses tonight. I've got a few more presents to deliver before I can go home and finish the cookies."

"Well, it's an open invitation. If your dad goes to bed early or something, come on by. At the very least, Logan is having it catered." Mac pulled her into a sudden hug. "I feel like I never see you anymore."

Veronica patted her back a couple of times before pulling away. "We'll have a girl's night out, soon."

Following her to the door, Mac rolled her eyes. "You _always_ say that and we never do."

There was no argument against that, so Veronica just smiled. "Merry Christmas, Mac."

"Merry Christmas, Veronica."

***

The next stop on Veronica's sleigh ride was the Fennel house. Darrell ran up to answer the door, adorable in a reindeer sweatshirt. "Hi Veronica! Did you bring us presents?"

"Darrell, leave the poor girl alone." Her BFF came up behind his little brother, and Veronica noted with amusement that he wore a snowman sweater-vest.

Pouting, Darrell ran back into the house. "Well, did you bring us presents?" Wallace asked as soon as he was gone.

Veronica pulled a bag of presents from behind her back. "Of course. I couldn't forget my best guy and his people."

"Cool." Wallace grabbed the bag and grinned at her. "So, you and Keith want to come spend Christmas Eve with us? Mom's gonna make us sing carols and drink eggnog. And I thought later I'd head to Logan's. You game?"

"Nah, me and Dad are going to do our usual Christmas thing."

"Well, let's do something during the break. Except for when you need backup on a case, I hardly see you anymore. We never just hang." He put up his dukes. "Middleweight championships are on Friday night. Want to come take advantage of the satellite dish?"

"Sounds like a plan." She leaned forward and gave him a quick hug. "Have a good Christmas, Wallace."

"You, too. And if you and your dad want to come over, just give us a ring."

***

Veronica stopped by Mars Investigations to double-check her dad's flight itinerary only to find the office already open.

"Dad?" she called, heading for his office.

"He should still be on his way back from Chicago," answered Weevil, coming up behind her from the kitchenette.

"Working on Christmas Eve, Weevil? You're really aiming for that Employee of the Month plaque, aren't you?" She sat behind the desk they now shared since her dad hired him on part time and swung her feet up onto it.

"You're in my seat, blondie."

"There are three other chairs."

"So move your ass to one of those."

For a minute she considered fighting him on it, but it seemed like a lot of effort, so she got up and plopped down in a chair on the other side of the desk. "What are you working on?"

"Just getting the billing done," he said, sitting down. "Mrs. Sanders keeps dodging us. And we still haven't gotten anything from that embezzlement gig with Byers and Byers."

"Lawyers. They're probably looking for a way out of it."

"Well, they won't find it. That's my Christmas bonus, right there. I intend to collect."

"Just don't break their legs. We can't afford a law suit."

"I'll keep that in mind." Weevil shifted nervously, which was weird for Mr. Confidence. "Listen, what are you and the Sheriff up to tonight?"

"Family tradition – much eating of cookies and drinking of eggnog while we watch bad Christmas animation. Why?"

"If you have the time, why don't you guys drop by my new place. It's a lot nicer than my last apartment, and I owe it to both of you. I have cookies, too, and I think my sister and Ophelia might come over to watch a movie or something."

"I'll ask Dad when he comes home. Maybe." She knew they probably wouldn't go, but Weevil looked hopeful and she didn't want to dash that outright.

He grinned. "All right."

***

Christmas Eve in Neptune reached a balmy eighty-five degrees. In the Mars household, Veronica stared balefully at her oven, cranked to four hundred, currently making the apartment sticky and uncomfortable.

Backup whined softly, gazing at her with reproachful eyes.

"This is the last batch, buddy, I promise. After this, my holiday baking is done." At least for twenty-four hours. There was a turkey currently defrosting in the fridge for Christmas Day.

The phone rang and Veronica answered. "Hello?"

Her dad's voice replied from the other end. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey, Dad! Did your plane land already? I meant to pick you up."

Her dad sighed and Veronica knew that it wasn't a good sigh. "I'm really sorry, Veronica, but there's been a snowstorm in Chicago and they're grounding all flights for now. They're expecting delays of up to seventy-six hours."

All of her Christmas plans seemed to crumble in front of her eyes. "Can't you fly out of another airport?"

"It won't do any good, honey. This is going to mess up the whole eastern half of the country." He paused, maybe waiting for her to say something, but she couldn't think of anything. "I'm really sorry, Veronica. Maybe we can just put Christmas on hold until I get back."

"I guess." Veronica could hear the petulant tone in her voice but didn't care. It wasn't fair.

"Why don't you go over to Alicia and Wallace's house. I'm sure they'd be happy to have you."

"Maybe."

"I'll call you tomorrow, sweetheart. And I'll be back on the first available plane, I promise." Her father's sad voice softened her a little. "I love you, Veronica. And Merry Christmas."

"I love you, too, Dad. Merry Christmas."

She hung up just as the smoke alarms went off. The cookies were black when she pulled them from the oven.

"Merry Freakin' Christmas."

***

Part of Veronica knew that she should go to the Fennel's or to Weevil's. Even the party at Logan's would be better than sitting on her couch, moping. But in the end, sulking won out over being with other people. So that's how Christmas Eve 2007 came to pass with her sulking, eating her weight in sugar cookies, and feeling particularly grinchy.

After all her running around and baking during the day, she felt very sleepy so she ended up turning off the Christmas tree lights and heading for bed kind of early. Rubbing her eyes, she walked down the hall and noticed a faint glow coming from her room.

She rubbed her eyes again but the glow didn't go away. Unconcerned, she thought perhaps she'd just left a lamp on.

The last thing she expected to see was Lilly Kane sitting on her bed, examining her nails.

"Lilly?"

"God, Veronica Mars, took you long enough. It feels like I've been sitting here an eternity."

Veronica couldn't help but smile. "Lilly, for you ten minutes is an eternity."

"It's a little different this side of the mortal coil. But you're right, patience was never a virtue."

"So what's up, Lil? Dispensing fashion advice? Or were you just feeling sorry for me?"

Lilly arched an eyebrow in her direction. "It seems to me that you were doing a good job of that on your own. When did you become such a mope?"

The worst thing to hear when you're already feeling sorry for yourself is that you're moping. "I'm not a mope. I'm having a totally crappy Christmas and it's not my fault."

"Please get over yourself. You could totally be partying with Logan and that blue-haired friend of yours. Or hanging with that cute Wallace kid. And trust me when I say that a lot of fun could be had with Weevil. But instead you chose to be a sad-ass loser. You've lost the Christmas spirit."

"Like you're one to talk. Your parents were billionaires and you would donate used toys to the Toys for Tots box and give loose change to the Salvation Army Santas."

"And I paid for it, didn't I."

"What, karmically? I don't think you were killed because of your lack of Christmas spirit."

"No, not that," Lilly rolled her eyes. "Forced to walk this earth, chains of death around me."

"What chains? You're not really striking me as the Marley type."

Lilly pointed to the still-bleeding gash on her head. "What do you think this is? Until the end of time, my head will be bleeding and I'll be stuck in this stupid pep squad uniform. God, when I think of all the cute outfits I could have died in..."

"So what, you're here to show me Christmases past, present, and future?" Veronica scoffed.

"Duh, no. You've seen enough movies, you should know this story. I'm here to warn you that three spirits are going to visit you tonight. The first will come at midnight. You're supposed to heed their words, blah, blah, blah or you'll die friendless and alone."

Still not convinced, Veronica eyed her former best friend critically. "Is this some sort of holiday punking? Like, the guys upstairs let you come down at Christmas to pull pranks on the people you love?"

"Yeah, that's what they're all about up there - practical jokes. This is totally serious, Veronica. You're in danger of becoming a major drag. Change your ways now, or you could share my fate. Actually, that could be kind of fun. We could haunt people together!"

"Uh huh. Listen, if I promise to become the Grinch after his heart grows three sizes, can I forgo this? I'm kind of tired."

""They're already on their way." Lilly began to fade away. "Listen to them, Veronica. They can save you."

"Lilly? Where are you going?"

"My time is up. But I'll see you again. Merry Christmas, Veronica."

Then Lilly was gone and Veronica was left alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Veronica made her way to bed, still not entirely sure she hadn't just dreamed the whole visit from Lilly. Obviously she'd overdosed on the _Christmas Carol_ adaptations this year. Between the Muppets, Mickey Mouse, Bill Murray and Susan Lucci, it apparently infected her psyche and the sugar overdose was giving her hallucinations. Best to just sleep it off.

She had just laid down when exactly at midnight her clock radio started beeping which was strange because the alarm wasn't even turned on. After turning it off, she called out hesitantly, "Hello?"

There was more glow, this time emanating from the living room. Part of her just wanted to go back to sleep and ignore it, but Veronica never could let a mystery go, so she cautiously got up and crept into the hall.

Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized her second visitor of the night. "Meg."

Just as beautiful in death as she was in life, Meg smiled. "Hey Veronica."

"You're the Ghost of Christmas Past?"

"I guess you could say that." She held out her hand. "I'm here to show you Christmases of years gone by."

Veronica hesitated. "I guess I could put up a fuss and say I won't go and be disbelieving. But that won't stop this from happening, will it?"

Amused, Meg shook her head. "Nope."

"I figured as much." Veronica took Meg's hand. "Lead the way, then."

"Okay." They walked towards the front door, but when they stepped through, they weren't on the Mars front stoop, they were in the backyard of the house that Veronica grew up in. "Remember this?"

"I loved this house," Veronica said. "Maybe it wasn't as huge as an 09er palace, but it was beautiful."

"Let's go inside." Still holding her hand, Meg led her through the walls into the family room.

"Mom!" Veronica stepped forward to hug Lianne who stood in front of the tree, adjusting some of the ornaments. Meg started to say something, but Veronica interrupted her. "I know, she can't see or hear me."

"You'd think stepping through the wall would have reminded you."

"So, what happened this Christmas? Was I on Santa's naughty list? Did I pout when I didn't get a pony?"

Meg shook her head. "This is a Christmas that you were filled with the holiday spirit. And you made sure that someone else was filled with the spirit, too."

Just then the phone rang and Lianne answered it. "Hello? Oh, hi, Lynn. Are you back from Sydney?" There was a pause as she listened. "Oh, that's too bad. No, no, of course we will. It's no trouble at all." Lianne looked slightly annoyed but kept it out of her voice. "Don't be silly, Logan's always welcome here. Okay, see you when you get back."

She hung up the phone and yelled. "Keith!"

Veronica couldn't help but giggle when her father jogged into the room wearing a Christmas sweater and reindeer antlers. "I used to make him wear those every Christmas Eve," she told Meg. "At first I thought it would make Santa leave more presents if it showed how much we loved the reindeer. Then I just did it for my own amusement."

"What's up?" he asked.

"Lynn Echolls just called. Apparently, she and Aaron are stuck in Australia until Boxing Day and they were hoping that we could take Logan tonight and tomorrow. She'd have asked the Kanes but they left yesterday for Gstaad. And she also asked Mrs. Navarro but apparently Logan doesn't get along very well with her grandson, Eli. Can you go get him?"

"Sure." They followed her father to the foot of the stairs. "Veronica," he yelled. "Why don't you come for a ride with me."

A few moments later, a twelve-year-old Veronica bounded down the stairs, hair and clothes in a general sense of disarray. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to pick up Logan so he can spend Christmas with us."

Little Veronica frowned. "Why?"

"Because his parents can't get home in time." He regarded her seriously. "What's the matter? I thought Logan was your friend."

"He's Lilly and Duncan's friend, mostly."

"You two always seemed to get along. You had fun together when we all went to Disneyland at Thanksgiving."

"I know, but…" Little Veronica started squirming.

Keith wouldn't let her go that easily. "But what, sweetheart?"

"What if he laughs at us? He's got everything and their tree is so much bigger than ours, and they've got lights everywhere in their front yard."

Keith smiled and tugged her ponytail. "Don't even worry about that, Veronica. I have a feeling that Logan will love Christmas with us just fine."

Meg grabbed Veronica's hand and the scene shifted to later that night. A much younger, less world-weary Logan sat with Veronica on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them as they watched _A Charlie Brown Christmas_. At first Logan was stone faced, bordering on sulky, but he had to grin as Veronica danced when the rest of the characters danced, and when she mimicked their hands as they decorated the sad little Christmas tree, he started laughing.

After it ended, Little Veronica jumped up. "Can we open one now? Pleeeeeaase!"

Keith nodded from his armchair. "One present each. And then you two need to get ready for bed."

Veronica dived under the tree for the biggest one addressed to her while Logan hung back, head down.

"Go ahead," Keith encouraged.

Logan hesitated long enough for Veronica to pull him down beside her and hand him a present. "Come on, I want to see what this one is."

When he finally raised his head, Logan's eyes were glistening ever so slightly. "Mr. Mars, Mrs. Mars? I just want to say thanks in case I forget later on. This is one of the best Christmases I've ever had."

"You're more than welcome, Logan," Keith assured him. "Now open your present before Veronica has a fit."

Logan grinned at Veronica and she smiled back at him. They both ripped open their gifts to find a small stereo for Veronica, and a laptop for Logan.

"Cool! Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad." Veronica ran and gave each of her parents a hug. She turned to Logan. "Cool computer. What can it do?"

Veronica and Logan spent a few minutes fiddling around with the laptop before Keith stood up. "All right, time for bed."

They all scattered, but Meg and Veronica remained. "That really was the best Christmas Logan ever had," Meg said. "You gave that to him. You made him laugh, you made him part of your family."

Veronica couldn't help the impatient sigh that escaped her. "What's your point?"

With a sweet smile and a gentle tone, Meg replied, "You've been through a lot, Veronica. More than anyone our age should have. So I get why you protect yourself."

"I don't…"

"You do. No one gets close anymore. You've pushed out Logan, your friends. You don't let new people in."

"I tried with Piz."

"No, you didn't. Not really. You told yourself you were trying but every time he tried to get to know you, really know you, you ran away. The only person left is your Dad, and even he's not as close to you as he once was."

"So I've become a cold bitch? Is that the lesson I'm supposed to take away?"

"I'm just showing you what life was like when you still let people in." She held out her hand. "Come on, we still have one more stop to make."

Veronica didn't want to go, but didn't really see the alternative. She took Meg's hand and suddenly they were in the front yard of the Navarro home. Veronica saw herself with choppy short hair standing uncertainly on the steps, holding a Tupperware container.

"This is what, junior year?"

Meg nodded.

Veronica was about to ask what they were doing there when the door banged open and Weevil swaggered out. God, she had forgotten how cocky he used to be. "V! To what do I owe this honor?"

"Oh, you know," quipped Veronica, "just casing the joint. Figured I'd pull a Grinch later tonight."

"You gonna tie antlers on Fennel's head?"

"And here I was, about to ask you to pull the sleigh."

He rolled his eyes. "What do you need, Miss Mars?"

"Why do you assume I need something?" she asked, sounding peeved.

"Because you always do," Weevil countered.

"You're right, I do. And to show my appreciation, I come here bearing sugar." She held out the Tupperware container. "Sugar cookies, to be precise."

Weevil raised his eyebrow so high, it nearly left his face. "You baked for me?!"

"Not just for you," she said, defensively. "It's Christmas and I have no money. I bake for everyone."

Weevil considered her for a long moment, and Veronica from the future could remember how her body used to heat up when he did that. Something in his gaze always felt like he was looking right through her and there was no way she could hide.

He opened his mouth, but instead of the expected sarcastic comment, he just smiled. "Thanks, V. These look good." Nodding towards the house, he asked, "You want to come in? Me and the kids were about to watch Rudolph."

"Rudolph?"

"Hey, I got overruled." He grinned. "If it was up to me, we'd be watching Frosty."

"Such a badass," she laughed. "Thanks for the offer, but I've got more cookies to deliver."

"All right." He took the cookies and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, V. Merry Christmas."

"Feliz Navidad, homie," she responded. He pulled away and shook his head, rolling his eyes. He held out his fist and she bumped it before walking away.

Future Veronica and Meg watched Weevil jog back into his house. "So what was this about?"

"You tell me," Meg said.

"Gang leaders are suckers for a pretty blonde?"

"And?"

"He has crappy taste in Christmas specials?"

"Not quite."

"I'm sure it has something to do with me filling him with the Christmas spirit."

"Well, he was already pretty full of the Christmas spirit. It's actually about how the cookies lasted even after Christmas.."

"Um, ew." Veronica momentarily wondered if the cookies were actually that bad that they couldn't be eaten.

Meg laughed, "Sorry, I didn't mean that literally. The actual cookies didn't survive the night. But giving him something and not expecting anything in return, it changed the way he saw you. It changed your whole relationship, even if you didn't realise it. And it wasn't just Weevil. Back then, Veronica, you were tough, and you were righteous. But you were still the old Veronica underneath. Sweet, caring."

"A marshmallow," Veronica said, remembering Wallace's words when they first met.

"Exactly. And that's what drew people to you. Not just Weevil, all of us. You've changed now. I think the marshmallow might be there still if we dig really deep, but it's pretty hard to find."

Veronica had nothing to say to that.

"Come on." Meg held out her hand. "It's time to go home." Veronica took her hand and a second later they were in her bedroom.

Smiling fondly at her, Meg reached to brush some stray hair off her face. "I'm glad I got to do this, Veronica. I've missed you."

Unable to stop herself, Veronica hugged Meg close. "I've missed you, too."

"Remember what we've seen," Meg said. "It can save you."

"I'll remember," Veronica promised.

And with that, Meg was gone. Veronica plopped down on her bed and tried not to cry.

***

She must have dropped off, because she jolted awake when music started blaring from the living room. Stumbling down the hall, she was shocked to see Felix Toombs dancing in the kitchen, scarfing back her shortbread.

"Felix?"

He looked up and grinned around a full mouth. "Hey Blondie! Awesome cookies."

She switched the stereo off and he groaned, disappointed. "Sorry, but the neighbours might complain about a party going on at one in the morning." She sat down at the counter. "So, I guess you're the ghost of Christmas Present?"

"Got it in one, baby."

Fixing him with a glare, Veronica asked, "Felix, in the time that we knew each other, did I strike you as someone who would be called 'baby'?"

He chuckled. "Not really, no."

"Let's keep it that way." She watched him devour more of her cookies. "So are you going to show me how others are spending their Christmas, and I'm missing out, or are you just going to eat yourself into a sugar coma."

Felix muttered something, spraying cookie crumbs everywhere.

Not even trying to keep the repulsion off her face, Veronica said, "Didn't anyone ever tell not to talk with your mouth full."

"Sorry. It's been since awhile since I ate. Forgot the mechanics of it. All right, let me just grab some of these," he said, clutching some sugar cookies, "and we'll get out of here." He walked over to the door and gestured grandly. "After you."

Before she moved, Veronica pinched herself, just to make sure. _Nope, still awake._ She stood up and joined Felix at the door. He gently laid a hand on her back and she found herself in the middle of an airport. O'Hare Airport, if she had to guess, because father was arguing with a ticket person right in front of her.

"But you gave those people a flight back tomorrow. Why do I have to wait until Thursday?"

"I told you, sir, you'll just have to wait. They had first class tickets and you were economy class. There are less economy class seats available."

"I want to do is get home to my daughter so she doesn't have to spend it alone. Is there no way you can help me? I'll pay for a first class ticket!"

The ticket person looked truly regretful. "I'm sorry sir, there's really nothing I can do."

"My dad's not getting back until Thursday?" Veronica whined. "There goes Christmas." She felt herself sliding back into her sulk.

"You're kinda missing the point, here," Felix sighed.

"Which is?"

"He's trying. None of this is his fault and his Christmas is going to be even more miserable than yours. Cut him some slack." The look on his face reminded Veronica of what Weevil looked like when he was calling her out on something – peeved, slightly disappointed, and leaving no room to argue. No wonder they were best friends.

"All right," she agreed. "I'll lay off the guilt trip when he calls tomorrow. Is that all?"

Felix laughed. "No, this was just our first stop. Come on, we've got an old friend to look in on."

His hand rested lightly on her back again and she found herself in front of St. Patrick's Church. There were a few people filing out, and it took a second to recognize the one nearest to her, wearing a suit, as Weevil. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for a young woman who tried to get around him.

He held his arm out, blocking her way. "You promised, Mari. You said Ophelia could spend Christmas Eve with me. What happened?"

Mari, who Veronica realised must be Weevil's sister, sighed sadly but seemed mostly annoyed. "I didn't promise, I said I'd do what I could. Miguel wouldn't go for it."

"Miguel has barely been in her life," Weevil spat out. "Why does he suddenly get a say?"

Mari tossed her hair, fixing Weevil with a glare. "He's her father. And I'm sorry but he doesn't want his daughter spending time with the man that killed his cousin."

Veronica could see a muscle twitch in Weevil's jaw and his fists clenched in frustration. "I didn't kill Thumper."

"Funny, that isn't what Hector and the boys said."

"Hector don't know shit. 'Sides, it doesn't matter who killed Thumper, he had it coming."

"Says you," Mari spat.

"Yeah, says me!" Weevil shouted. His chest rose and fell rapidly and it was obvious he was trying to hold himself together. "He killed Felix. _Felix_, Mari. He was like a brother to me. To us. Would you've really been okay with Thumper getting away with that?"

Biting her lower lip, Mari struggled for a second. "No, of course not. But that's no excuse for killing him."

"I don't know how many different ways I can say it, I didn't kill Thumper."

Mari just shook her head. "Eli, remember who you're talking to. You might not have actually done the deed, but I'd be willing to bet that you got him killed. And I know you think you did it for good reason, but I don't know if I want someone who could do something like that spending time with my daughter."

Not taking her seriously, Weevil didn't back down. "You're just saying that because of Miguel. Come on, Mari, he's just going to take off like he always –"

"It's not Miguel," she cut him off. "Ophelia worships you, Eli. You can do no wrong in her eyes, she wants to be just like you. And I'm sorry but I don't want that for her."

The anger slowly drained from Weevil's face and something else stole across it – pain and apprehension. "Mari… come on. You know I would never let that happen."

"I don't know that." She took a deep breath and looked away. "I didn't want to do this tonight, I thought maybe after New Years…"

"Mari…"

She pulled him in for a quick hug. "I love you, Eli, I do. But this is the way it's gotta be. At least for now. Don't come around, don't call. Maybe we can figure something out in a few months." Letting go of him, Mari quickly walked away, her arms tightly folded across her chest.

Weevil watched her go, looking like he'd just been slapped. For a minute it seemed like he wasn't sure what to do with himself, and he slowly loped off towards his car. When he got there he shoved his key into the lock and suddenly punched the side of his car. He hit it again and a third time, leaving a dent. He struggled to pull himself together for a second, swiping at the few tears that had escaped, and breathing deeply. After a couple of seconds, he straightened, got into his car and peeled out.

"How could she do that?" Veronica asked. "She's his family."

"Just because someone's blood, don't mean they can't rip your heart out. You should know that."

Veronica let out a humourless chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I should."

"I think my boy's gonna have it rough, the next couple of years," Felix mused, sitting on the church steps. "I know Mari and she's not going to let him back into their lives. Your dad'll probably try and keep him on the straight and narrow, but he'll get distracted and Weevs'll fall through the cracks. Never had many friends outside of me and the boys. Chardo ain't comin' back, he don't trust Hector or the rest of them, and I'm not really available. And besides us, the only friend he ever had was you, chica."

Squirming under Felix's intense gaze, Veronica sat down next to him. "I wouldn't exactly call us buds. More like business associates."

Felix shrugged. "Maybe on your side. Remember, I was around Junior year. Homie would take off any time you tilted your pretty little blonde head at him. He don't do that for every girl. In fact, there are maybe five people in the world he'd do that for, three of 'em are family, the other two's us."

It wasn't like Veronica hadn't suspected. Sometimes she'd catch Weevil looking at her in a certain way, or there'd be something in his voice. But it made it all the more real to have Felix lay it out for her.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she asked. It felt like he was cornering her, and Veronica hated being cornered.

"That's not up to me, Blondie, it's up to you."

There was nothing to say to that, so Veronica settled on glaring.

He stood up and held out his hand. "C'mon. One more stop for us." Taking his hand, she stood and found herself in Logan's penthouse.


	3. Chapter 3

The party was done, but the remnants of it were all over the apartment. Mac and Parker were slumped together on one end of the couch, Wallace on the other. Logan lay upside-down on the chaise chair and Dick was sprawled out on the floor.

"Dude, I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm sick of asses." Dick sounded both bewildered and horrified at the possibility.

"Hear, hear," mumbled Wallace.

Mac flicked a potato chip out of Parker's hair. "This may have been a mistake."

"Just think of the piles of cash we're making on this," Logan reminded her. "That's what gets me through the day."

"Didja see that girl in the pink skirt?" Dick asked. "Her ass was hairy, dude. Hairy." An involuntary shudder ran through him.

"Better than Chip Diller," Parker piped up. "I really didn't need to see that birth mark. Or be reminded of the whole egg thing."

"Why're we here?" Veronica sighed.

Felix rolled his eyes. "Patience, girl. You'll see."

"Whose phone is blinking?' Mac asked, pointing at a light coming from amongst some beer bottles on the coffee table.

Wallace sat up. "There it is. I set it down and couldn't remember where." Grabbing his phone and flipping it open, he frowned. "It's a text from Veronica's dad. He's stuck in Chicago and couldn't get home tonight. Asked me to check up on her."

"That sucks," Mac sat up, too. "Why didn't she come here, then? I invited her."

"Me too," Wallace said.

They both turned to Logan.

He threw up his hands defensively. "Don't look at me. I sent her the Facebook invite. She knew she could come."

"Maybe she had other plans?" Parker ventured.

"With who?" Dick scoffed. "Everyone who can tolerate her is in this room."

"Shut up, Dick," Mac said, distractedly. "So what do you think she did?"

Logan snorted. "If I had to guess? Held a pity party in her own honor."

Mac hurled a cushion at him, hitting him in the side of the head. "Logan, if you can't be nice, be quiet."

Veronica couldn't help her own eye roll when he mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key.

"Man's got a point," Wallace said. "She probably did end up staying home alone. She kind of does that a lot lately."

"She does," Mac admitted.

"We're in college," Veronica protested to Felix. "I've got homework, two jobs, people asking me to solve their problems, and occasionally I get this wacky thing called sleep. I don't have time to be a party girl."

"People grow apart in college," Parker pointed out. "It's natural."

"It'd be natural if she was hanging out with other people, finding new friends," Wallace replied. "Veronica doesn't work that way. She doesn't open herself up to strangers. Hell, I'd been her friend, her best friend according to her, for nearly a year before I finally felt like she trusted me. Really trusted me."

"Well, she's a little guarded – " Mac began before Logan burst into laughter from his spot on the chaise, cutting her off.

"Yeah," he snickered, turning himself right-side-up on the chaise with a lurch, "And I'm 'a little' drunk."

"So maybe we should make sure she's still interacting with people," Mac continued, ignoring him. "You know, in a social sense."

Parker perked up a bit. "I've been meaning to ask her to join my Stop Violence Against Women group. She's helped out a couple times in the past, but she hasn't been around lately."

"And I've been letting her slack off on coming to my games, but she's missed six now, so she owes me," Wallace said.

Felix fixed her with a raised eyebrow and Veronica squirmed as this was something she actually felt guilty about. "I've been working. And then it was midterms." This didn't elicit any response from Felix except for more accusatory staring. "I'll go to the next three games," Veronica promised. "I've been meaning to, anyway.

"I'm holding you to that," Felix said. "Don't think I won't come back and haunt your ass."

Logan stretched his long limbs. "Did it occur to any of you that maybe you should just leave her alone. If she wants to pull a Greta Garbo, let her. She's just expecting to be disappointed by everyone, anyway. Don't see why you'd want to put yourselves through that."

"Dude, totally," Dick agreed from the floor.

"Well, maybe we want to show her that some people won't disappoint her," Wallace said, pointedly.

Logan's response dripped with bitterness. "And maybe that's just possible."

Out of nowhere, Veronica felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. "They're all gonna give up on me, aren't they?"

"Are you gonna give them a reason not to?" Felix asked, gently.

Annoyed with herself, she swallowed her tears and smiled. "Sure, I'll join a sorority, date Chip Diller, and run for student council."

"Well, they might not give up on you then, but they probably will commit you to some sort of hospital with padded walls." Grasping her wrist, he said, "Come on."

They ended up on a road that was dense with fog, only a dim glow emanating from the streetlights along it.

"If you're trying to creep me out, job well done," Veronica said. She never liked fog. It always felt like something was watching her from just beyond the grey.

"This isn't my deal," Felix said, and Veronica noticed he was on edge, too. "In fact, I think it's time for me to go."

"You are _not_ leaving me here by myself," she protested.

"Sorry, chica, I don't think I got a say in this." Right before her eyes, Felix started to fade from view. "Be good, Veronica. I hope I don't see you for a long, long time."

When he was gone, Veronica noticed just how silent and still everything was. Not a sound, not a breeze. Nothing but her and the fog.

She wasn't clear on how she knew someone was behind her, because there was still no sound, no movement, but after a minute she sensed something and turned around.

There, hovering over her, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head, was Don Lamb. There was blood caked along his hairline and his face was pale grey with dark rings under his eyes. Veronica thought humourlessly that he looked like death.

"So, you're my Ghost of Christmas Future. What, was Aaron Echolls busy haunting someone else?"

She received nothing but stony silence from the former Sheriff.

"Well, what are you here to show me?"

More silence.

"You couldn't shut up when you were alive. Can I get a word? A nod? An interpretive dance?"

Slowly, he raised his arm and pointed off into the void.

Dread seized Veronica. "You can't be serious."

No reaction, just more pointing. She wondered how long she'd be allowed to just stand there without following his directive. Moments passed and neither of them moved. Finally, curiosity won out, and Veronica steeled her nerves and ventured in the direction Lamb indicated.

She found herself in a cemetery, fog still enveloping the world around her. A small group clustered around a grave and she approached them. With a start she recognized Wallace and Logan, both wearing suits, and her father sitting on the lone chair looked grey and worn around the edges.

"Kind of surprised to see you here," Wallace said to Logan.

Scuffing at the ground, Logan shrugged. "Kind of surprised to be here. But, even with all the bad stuff that went down, there was history there. Felt like I had to honour it, somehow."

"So, it's me," Veronica said through the lump in her throat. Lamb's spectre had followed her to the grave and now hovered at her elbow. With a sick feeling she realised that while Wallace and Logan looked a little older, it couldn't have been more than ten years in the future which meant that she probably didn't live to see her thirties.

Her father stood up and patted Logan on the back. "Glad you came, son." He looked at Wallace. "And you. I know there wasn't a lot of love lost there, so I appreciate it."

The feeling of dread in Veronica's stomach intensified. She could face a lot of possible futures, but one where she and Wallace weren't friends wasn't one of them.

"It's no problem," Wallace said. "Felt like I owed it to Veronica. She would have wanted me here. She would have wanted me to forgive him."

What? 'Him'? "Okay," Veronica glanced at Lamb, "I'm confused. If it's not me, who is it?"

Skirting around Wallace, she took a closer look at the tombstone. _Eli Navarro, 1987 – 2015; Beloved brother, uncle, and friend_

"Weevil?" Veronica looked to Lamb for confirmation but before he could respond, her father interrupted.

"Part of me is just angry with him. And myself. Why didn't he say something earlier? Or why didn't I notice him limping again? We could have found a way to deal with it, but instead he let it go so long there was nothing left to do."

"Did he know it was cancer?" Logan asked.

Her dad shook his head. "He's had that bum knee for years, he just thought it was acting up again. And he didn't have insurance so he didn't go to the doctor. By the time I dragged him there and they figured out what was really wrong, the doctor said it was too late. It had spread through his whole body."

"Never thought Weevil Navarro would go down like that," Wallace mused. "Seems too quiet for him. Always pictured some sort of blaze of glory."

Truthfully, that's also what Veronica pictured. Weevil was too full of life, and far too dramatic to just quietly slip from this world.

"Well, nothing really turns out like you think it will," Logan said. "Is this how you thought life would be?"

"It's too much," her dad muttered. "You kids keep dying so young. Lilly and Meg both gone before they were out of high school. Weevil when he finally had his life on track again. And Veronica…"

A look of guilt flashed across Wallace's face but he put a hand on her dad's back and led him away from the grave. "Come on, Mr. Mars, I think we should get you home." He nodded briefly at Logan before leading the older man away.

Once he was alone, Logan pulled a flask from his inner pocket and took a swig. Looking down at the grave, he said, "Sorry, Weevs. Would you like some?" He poured a few ounces onto the newly filled in grave.

"Tell you a secret," he whispered to the grave. "I'm a little jealous. Not only do you get to leave this miserable place, but I'll bet you're just having the time of your life. Well, so to speak. Hanging with Lilly and Veronica. Looks like you win after all."

He wandered away and towards another row of tombstones and Veronica followed robotically, trying to wrap her brain around this vision of the future. She was dead? When? How? Was it a job gone wrong? Someone seeking revenge? Or something totally random and meaningless like a car accident? Lamb still hovered at her side, but she obviously wasn't getting any answers from him.

Logan abruptly stopped and plopped down on the ground facing another tombstone. "Long time, no chat," he said. "But then, I'm still pretty pissed at you." He took another drink from his flask. "Everyone else feels sad and guilty, but I gotta say Veronica, I just kind of hate you now. Well, I kind of hated you before you died, but this really sealed the deal."

Something in his voice made Veronica look at Logan and really see him for the first time since this spectre of Lamb pulled her forward in time. On the surface he still looked like the Logan she knew. His hair was a little darker, and the laugh lines around his eyes had deepened, but he still looked like the same boy. However, a closer look revealed the man he had become. His shoulders slumped with the burden of grief he carried. His mouth twisted in a permanent bitter smirk. But it was his eyes that were truly changed. They looked almost dead. The blue orbs that had once sparked with anger and shone with love were now grey and dull. Lifeless.

"You're a selfish bitch, you know that?" He addressed her tombstone with an almost fond tone of voice. "Didn't you ever stop to think what your death would do to the rest of us? Mac doesn't come back to Neptune anymore. She just doesn't and if you ask me it's because it hurts her too much. Wallace disappeared into a bottle for a year and he still blames himself. You can see it in his eyes every time someone says your name. Cancer might be Weevil's official cause of death, but the fight went out of him the day you died. He's just been dying by inches ever since. Your dad… God, your dad walks around in a permanent fog." He took a long pull from the flask.

"I know how he feels. Because I feel the same way. It doesn't matter that we hadn't been together for almost five years and that even if you had lived we probably would never get back together. The day you died, I died right along with you. There's no color left in the world, all I hear is a dull buzz, and food has no taste. The world fell apart around us, and all because you couldn't ask for help."

Suddenly, viciously, he threw his flask at her tombstone. He rose to his feet and began pacing. "So fucking stubborn. You could have asked any of us to help you out, but instead you went on that damn stake-out alone." The last word was interrupted with a sob.

Wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, he took another drink. "He's dead, you know. Liam. The popular theory is that your dad did it, but my money's on Weevil. It was more his style. Would have done it myself, but I was still communing with Senor Cuervo when Liam took two in the back. No witnesses, a drive-by, not that Sheriff Vinnie was really concerned with finding his killer. He deserved a lot worse. He deserved pain."

Logan fell silent and simply sat staring at her tombstone. For her part, Veronica stole a closer look at it. _Veronica Mars, 1987 – 2011, Loving Daughter and Friend_.

Twenty-four. She was only twenty-four years old when she died. That was barely a life. That was barely anything.

Reeling backwards from the tombstone, she didn't want to believe it. This couldn't be right. Veronica never had grand plans for her future of kids and marriage and a two-car garage. Still, in the back of her mind, she thought there'd be more. Find a nice boy, settle down, take over for her dad when he wanted to retire. She thought she'd have a life.

She turned to Lamb, desperate. "This is just a possibility, right? This isn't written in stone. I can still change things. Be ready for Liam? Not go on stakeouts alone?"

His dull eyes showed no life, he simply raised his arm and pointed at her tombstone. The world about them changed. A bitter wind whipped Veronica's hair around and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep warm. The sky darkened as black clouds rolled in. Veronica turned back to her grave's marker to see that Logan was gone and a glow emanated from the engraved dates. Tears filled her eyes and she turned to her ghostly advisor.

"I don't want it to be like this," she pled. "I don't want to die so young, I don't want my dad to be alone, I don't want everyone to hate me, I want a better life than this."

All the fear and sorrow from the whole night washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to pull her out to sea. She floundered, trying to find a way out.

Grasping Lamb's arms, she shook him, trying to get any reaction out of him. "What do I do?"

Without warning his hands closed around her throat, fingers digging in. "You know," he sneered, blue eyes now ablaze with malice.

She struggled against him, but he had a death grip around her neck. Scrabbling at his face, his arms, she accidentally pulled his hood off. The sight was horrifying, and even as she fought for air, part of her wanted to cry. The entire left side of his skull was nothing but oozing blood and grey matter.

Growing weaker by the second, she tried to pry his fingers off, she tried to scream, but she didn't have enough strength or air for either. The world darkened even further and she felt herself falling, falling, falling…


	4. Chapter 4

Gasping for breath Veronica sat up in bed, hindered by her sheet that wrapped around her neck and bound her arms. She untangled herself and took deep breaths, trying to slow her rapidly drumming heart.

She glanced at her bedside clock which read 7:00am. It was morning.

"It must've been a dream," she muttered as she got up.

Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, she couldn't help but think the red marks around her throat looked more like they had been made by a large pair of hands rather than her cotton sheets, but she shrugged it off as being paranoid.

After freshening up, she shuffled into the kitchen, greeted with a nudge from Backup who wanted to go out. Clipping his leash on, she was throwing on her jacket when she noticed something. There were cookies missing from the racks. Shortbread and sugar cookies. The exact ones that Felix had been eating.

She _knew_ those cookies had been there before she went to bed. And the only other possible culprit was Backup who wouldn't have been so dainty as to only take a few.

There was one way to be sure.

Wallace was decidedly NOT happy to be awoken at quarter after seven on Christmas morning. "Mars, this had better be damn good, otherwise I'm going to kick your ass."

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Sunshine." He grunted in response. "Look, easy question and then you can go back to sleep. Did my dad send you a text message last night?"

"What? Oh, yeah, he did. What did you end up doing, by the way?"

Her father did text Wallace. Felix ate the cookies. Lamb gave killing her the old college try. All signs were pointing to the dream being real which was so freaky she couldn't even wrap her head around it.

"Veronica?" Wallace prompted.

"Oh, yeah, I didn't do anything. Look, I'd better take Backup out before he loses control. I'll talk to you in a couple of hours, okay?"

Wallace sounded very bewildered. "Yeah, okay. Talk to you then."

If the dreams were real then it meant she was getting a second chance. A chance to change things, make them better, and make sure some things never happened.

But first things first. Heeding Backup's insistent nudges, she took him outside and let him take care of his business. Then they got into the car to go to the beach so he could run around for awhile. While he ran up and down the deserted beach, chasing seagulls, and splashing in the cold water, Veronica did some planning.

Once he tired himself out, Veronica took him back home, put the turkey in the oven and assessed what she had in the fridge. Then she headed back out.

First stop was Weevil's apartment. She had to buzz twice before she got a gruff, "What?" from the intercom.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Navarro."

"V?"

"Yeah, can I come up."

"Uh, sure." The door buzzed a second later and she went up to his fifth floor apartment.

He was waiting in the hallway wearing an undershirt and sweats, yawning and glaring at the same time. "Fuck, V, it's Christmas morning. I'm off the clock."

"I'm not here for work," she said, pushing past him into his apartment. "I'm here for a favour."

He closed the door with a roll of his eyes. "Of course you are."

Tilting her head at him, she smiled. "It's a small favour, really. I need you to bring chairs."

"To what?" he asked, gruffly.

"Christmas dinner. My place. Tonight."

"I don't need a pity invite, Veronica."

She had a feeling it would go like this. "It's not a pity invite, vato. I just want your bubbly personality and shining face there."

His face went from pissed off to weary. "Look, I appreciate it, but I don't think I'd be very good company today, all right?" He rubbed the back of his neck and Veronica noticed the bandages on his hand.

Not wanting to tip him off that she knew exactly how he got his injuries because there would be no way to explain that, she just gestured at his hand. "You okay?"

"What?" He looked down at his hands and chuckled. "Oh yeah, just got in a fight with my car."

"Don't you know better than to fight someone who weighs a tonne and is made of metal?" she admonished.

"Hey, you should see the other guy."

"I'm sure." This was going to require some humility. "Okay, Weevil, this is the deal. My dad got stuck in Chicago which is the reason we didn't come over last night." She figured a little white lie wouldn't hurt.

"You could have come without him," he pointed out.

"Yes, but that would have interrupted my pity party. I was feeling very sorry for myself, you see. But today, instead of feeling sorry for myself, I want to spend time with my friends. And for better or worse, that includes you."

He laughed at that. "All right, I'll think about it. What time does dinner start?"

"I'm thinking five. But if you do decide to come over, maybe you could come a little early and help me set up? I have to figure out how to fit nine people into my living room. You're much better at the whole spatial relation thing than I am." It never hurt to butter him up. That, and if he knew she needed his help, he was almost guaranteed to show up. He'd never leave her hanging.

"All right." He followed her to the door. "Merry Christmas, Miss Mars."

She whipped a candy cane from her pocket and proffered it to him. "Feliz Navidad, homie."

He took the candy, shaking his head grinning. "Later."

After she left Weevil's, still unsure whether he would show up or not, but having a good feeling about it, she drove over to Mac and Parker's off-campus apartment. Nearly everyone that lived there were students, and so it was usually jumping with activity, not unlike the dorms. Christmas morning found it silent with most of it's inhabitants gone home. Parker was in the midst of another fight with her parents so she decided to spend the holidays with Mac, instead.

She knocked on their door, but got no response. Wondering if they maybe decided to stay at Mac's parents' place for Christmas, she knocked again before the door was thrown open by an unusually grumpy-looking Parker.

"Hey Veronica."

"Hey Parker, Merry Christmas."

Parker nodded in acknowledgment, and gestured for Veronica to come in, following her when Veronica headed for Mac's room. Parker headed straight for the armchair in the corner of Mac's room while Veronica sat on her bed, bouncing up and down a little.

"If you don't stop that," came Mac's muffled voice from under her pillow, "I will have to kill you."

"Someone's being naughty and Santa won't leave her anything," Veronica said as she continued to bounce.

Mac whipped her pillow off her head and threw it at Veronica. "Why do you hate me?"

"Nothin' but love here," Veronica responded, catching the pillow. "What are you guys doing today?"

"Brunch at my mom's in – " Mac looked at her cellphone, "Well, we're supposed to be there in fifteen minutes but I think we'll be late. After that, nothing."

"Excellent," Veronica said, tenting her fingers. "Be at my house at five o'clock, and if you can steal some of your mother's buns, even better."

"What for?" Parker asked..

"Christmas dinner, of course."

Mac sat up and looked at Veronica carefully. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked seriously.

Veronica couldn't help but grin. Apparently her friends were going to need time to adjust to her new friendly, social self. "I'm fine. Just full of Yuletide cheer."

She got up and went to the door. "So I'll see both of you at five?"

Parker was now sitting straight up in the chair, fully awake, also looking at Veronica like she'd grown another head. "Sure. Sounds fun."

"Merry Christmas," Veronica said, and tossed them each a candy cane before she left.

The next stop was going to be the hardest and for a minute Veronica considered just skipping it entirely, especially as she had to pause at home to baste between the stops, but she was trying to turn over a new leaf and she figured that included even the more troublesome parts of the leaf.

Surprisingly, Logan and Dick were actually awake when she got to the penthouse. The latter answered the door, didn't even acknowledge Veronica, just turned around and shouted, "Logan, Santa dropped off your lump of coal."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Dick," she said, following him in.

Logan came into the main room, carrying a half-full garbage bag. When he saw Veronica, he looked downright shocked. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

Setting down the garbage bag, he awkwardly came towards her. "What's up?"

"Just checking to see if you and Dick have plans for tonight."

He shrugged. "Not really. Just to order in a pizza and play some Guitar Hero. Why?"

It was probably too late to change her mind. Still, Veronica felt one last shred of misgiving before she soldiered forward. "I'm having some people over for Christmas dinner tonight. I was wondering if you'd like to join us." She tried to hide a sigh. "Dick, too, if he behaves himself."

Logan sent her a shy grin, one that used to fill her with butterflies but now just gave her a warm, nostalgic twinge. "You sure?"

She smiled back. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"We'll be there."

"Great." She headed for the door, with Logan following close behind. "Hey, bring Guitar Hero, too. Mac tells me she's unbeatable. I want to see her kick everyone's asses."

He shook his head in wonder. "She's not lying. Dick thinks she's secretly a robot."

Dick came back into the living room and glanced at Veronica. "You're still here, huh? Don't you have people who actually like you to bug?" He turned away, heading for the balcony and Veronica threw a candy cane at him, hitting the back of his head.

"Happy Holidays, Dick," she called sweetly. Then she handed another to a grinning Logan. "You don't need to twist his arm if he doesn't want to come." He chuckled and waved her off with a flourish of his hand.

Her last stop of the morning was the Fennel home. Alicia answered the door and smiled in welcome. "Veronica, come in. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Alicia. Sorry to drop by like this," Veronica said as Alicia ushered her into the living room.

"Don't be silly. Wallace said that Keith is stuck in Chicago. We were just about to call to invite you over for Christmas lunch."

In the living room, Darrell was surrounded by a heap of wrapping paper, cast-aside clothes and books, engaged in heated battle on a new PSP. Wallace lay slumped over the arm of the couch, watching TV, looking worse for wear. Glancing up, he muttered, "Hey Veronica," and weakly smiled.

Veronica turned to Alicia. "Thanks for the invite, but I need to get home soon. I was hoping that you three could come over for Christmas dinner tonight. I have a bunch of food and I'd like to have people to share it with. Are you free?"

Alicia smiled. "I think we might be available. Can I bring anything?"

"If you have extra food of any kind, it'll be welcome, but don't put yourself out. I just want you guys there. Five o'clock."

"We'll see you then." Alicia turned to her youngest. "Darrell, put that down for five minutes and help me set the table." Darrell groaned, but acquiesced.

Smiling at Wallace, she plopped down next to him on the couch, and allowing herself to be affectionate which was always easier with him, laid her head on his shoulder. "Hi."

She could feel him staring down at her. "Hi." He put his arm around her. "You okay?"

"Yep. You?"

"Nursing an impressive hangover. But I'm all right."

"Good." She leaned back a little to look him in the eye. "I've missed you the last couple of months." Waving her hand to quiet him when he opened his mouth to protest, she continued, "I know it's my fault. I haven't exactly been available, but I wanted to let you know that I did miss you and things are gonna change."

Wallace looked truly worried and his arm tightened around her. "Seriously, Veronica, are you okay?"

"I had, I don't know, kind of a dream? But not. More like an epiphany, last night. It's complicated." She smiled, her heart tugging at the concern on his face. He really was the best friend in the whole wide world. "I'm fine, Wallace. Honestly. I just realised some things I had been missing, and one of them was you."

His eyes remained a bit troubled, even as his face relaxed into a smile. "Well, I missed you, too. Life just hasn't been the same without your cheer and optimism."

She feigned realization. "_That's_ why they call me Little Miss Sunshine."

"Yeah, that's it." His grin reached all the way to his eyes this time. "So, you sure you need to get going? My mom made her famous crepes with pretty much everything you can think of to put into them. And I bet we could get Darrell to put down the PSP long enough to play one of our ancient board games."

"No, there's a turkey roasting, probably drying out as we speak. And potatoes to mash and yams to bake. Or maybe I'll just order pizza."

Walking down the hall, Wallace said, "Hey, I never turn down a pizza."

"Oh, please. You never turn down anything."

"When the girl's right, she's right."

At the door, Veronica turned and handed him a handful of candy canes that she pulled from her bag. At his eager grasp, she chastised, "You share those with Darrell and your mom. They're not all for you."

After he promised to share, she left and made her way home. The turkey had dried out a little, but it wasn't too bad. She took the rest of the morning to prep the cooking for the afternoon.

As she quickly ate some lunch she eyed the still-wrapped presents under her tree. Technically she could open them – it was Christmas, after all – but half the fun of opening them was the look on her dad's face when she finally saw what he got her. She decided to wait until he got back. She was more into the anticipation, anyway.

Just past three, as she was putting the vacuum cleaner away, there was a pounding at her door. She answered it to find Weevil on the other side with tables, chairs and bags surrounding him.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey." Not waiting for an invitation, he started hauling everything in, and after a minute of gaping at him, Veronica helped.

"What is all this?"

"You said there were going to be nine people. That means you're gonna need something for them to sit on and eat at."

She gestured to her tiny apartment. "Well, sure, but where are we going to put it?"

"Right in the living room. We're just going to redecorate a little."

Something about that sounded ominous, but Veronica let it go. She'd actually been wondering how she was going to fit all of her guests into her apartment and if Weevil had a plan, more power to him.

He eyed the room and she could practically see him doing the math in his head. "So, what can I do to help?" she asked.

"Nothin'. You probably got plenty to do. I got this." Knowing that Weevil liked best to work alone, she nodded and returned to the kitchen.

The next half hour was quiet punctuated with an occasional grunt from Weevil as he was moving the furniture. Veronica became consumed with figuring out the timing of everything so that all the food would be hot and ready at five o'clock. After finally puzzling it out and putting the first few steps into motion, Veronica turned around to look into the living room. It was completely empty save the TV stand that had been shoved into the corner.

Weevil walked into the room, and she noticed he'd cast off the nice button-down he'd shown up in and was down to his undershirt.

"You didn't fence our stuff, did you?" she asked.

"Yeah, because your living room set is worth so much on the black market." He jerked his head towards the hall. "I put it in your dad's room."

Curiosity over-taking her, she peeked her head into her father's room to find the couch, chair, coffee table, and side tables all stacked neatly.

She went back into the living room where Weevil was setting up the folding tables. "Those look like the tables from the History Department."

"That's 'cause they are," Weevil replied. Veronica delicately searched for a way to ask the next question, but he beat her to the punch. "And no, I didn't steal them. I called my supervisor and asked if I could borrow them. Same with the chairs. It's all on the up-and-up."

He set up the tables up diagonally across the living room and put the chairs around them. Eyeing it, he asked, "Do you have a couple of table cloths?"

Taking a moment to marvel at the fact that _Weevil Navarro_ just asked her about table cloths, Veronica checked their linen cupboard and found not only one large table cloth that would fit over the shoved-together tables, but napkins and placemats as well.

Over the years Veronica found herself privy to some little-known facts about Weevil. Due to hours of watching with Ophelia, he was a big fan of Spongebob Squarepants. He hated quiet and if he couldn't play music (which he and her father had wildly different tastes in) he would start humming to himself, not even conscious of the fact. And the reason he graduated only a year late despite missing well over two years of school due to juvie and truancy could be surmised from his standardised test results which rivalled hers. But one thing she didn't know is that the guy could set a seriously pretty table. It looked like it came from the pages of the _Good Housekeeping_ magazine.

He presented it to her for inspection and she couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing," she reassured him. "It's not the table. It's just, who knew you spent so much time watching Martha Stewart. Or was there an interior design course in Chino?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. They never spoke about prison. It was a six-month period of his life that they pretended didn't exist.

She tensed, waiting for angry words, or worse, a hurt brush-off. Instead, he grinned. "Nah. There was a knitting course, and beadwork, but nothing on table-decorating. Something about the inmates having sharp forks and knives. Probably a bad idea."

Her shoulders relaxed as he chuckled, and the tension rolled away.

***

By the time the Fennels arrived just before five, they were nearly ready. Veronica was making the gravy, and Weevil was mashing potatoes. Alicia carried a incredibly rich looking chocolate cake which made Veronica's mouth water, and she seriously considered 'forgetting' to put it out.

Wallace saw her eyeing it. "Don't you even think about keeping it to yourself. She wouldn't let us have it for lunch, so I'm damn well getting a piece tonight."

On the heels of the Fennels came Mac and Parker and then Logan and Dick casting the apartment into utter chaos for the next fifteen minutes. Coats were thrown into Veronica's room, food was laid onto the table and Weevil carved the turkey while ignoring comments from the peanut gallery – namely Logan – about how suspiciously adept he was with a knife.

Finally they were all sitting at the table, a generous spread before them. Veronica expected everyone to dive into the food, particularly Wallace who was practically twitching. But they looked at her keenly, and she realised she was expected to say something.

"We don't really say grace in the Mars household, but I want to thank all of you for coming and sharing Christmas dinner with me. This is the time of year we should spend with family, and I feel like you're all a part of mine." She refrained from telling Dick that he would be the family dog. It was the holidays, after all.

She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say more, but Wallace rescued her. "Cool, let's eat!"

Very few things gave Veronica more of a warm, fuzzy feeling than watching Wallace eat. He did it with such joy. But she found that all of her friends, sitting around the table sharing a feast made that feeling even warmer and fuzzier. The only thing missing was –

"Merry Christmas, honey!" Her father burst in, exhausted and dragging his bag. Veronica was out of her chair and flew into his arms before he even had a chance to shut the door. "You're home! How?"

"Through begging and showing your picture to a very nice, generous man who traded me tickets, I got an early flight," he explained, returning the hug. He released her and acknowledged the room full of people. "Hey everyone. What's going on?"

Weevil got up to pull an extra chair to the table, moved his and Veronica's plates down a spot, and set another place at the head of the table. While he did that, Alicia answered, "Veronica put together a wonderful dinner and invited us all over to share it."

Her father looked slightly surprised, but impressed all the same. "You did all this?"

"With _lots_ of help. Everyone brought something to eat, or drink," she gestured to the wine that was Logan and Dick's contribution. "And Eli was nice enough to set the place up."

Her father sat down at the head of the table and smiled at everyone. "Well, I'm starving and your plates are still full, so what are we waiting for?"

For the next hour they consumed more food than ten people really ever should, even when one of those people is Wallace. After there was nothing but crumbs left of Alicia's cake, and everyone had pushed back slightly from the table to let their food digest, Veronica took a moment to contemplate her people.

Mac and Logan were arguing good-naturedly about something with Parker and Dick chiming in as back-up. Who would've thought that those two would ever be close, but Veronica could see from the way they laughed together, that Logan and Mac genuinely cared for each other. Alicia and Darrell were poking fun at Wallace, who rubbed his belly uncomfortably, the portrait of a loving family unit. Weevil leaned across her to talk to her dad, and her dad was laughing at whatever story he was spinning.

She had to admit, there were worse families to have. In fact, under duress, she might admit she was actually quite lucky. But more important things were waiting.

"Who's up for some Guitar Hero?"

***

Playing Guitar Hero necessitated the disassembly of the chairs and tables and for their regular furniture to be reinstalled. While Weevil, Dick and Logan took care of that, Wallace, Mac and Parker helped Veronica wrap the remaining food up, and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

An hour later, Mac was walloping Wallace's ass while the others cheered them on. Veronica brought the unopened Christmas gifts over to her Dad who was sitting at the breakfast bar. "I've been very patient, but can we open these now?"

Her dad laughed, "I'm impressed that you made it this long, sweetheart. Yes, by all means, let's open our presents."

There were some smaller items, DVDs and gift cards, but Veronica's major gift was a new camera. "Oh, Dad, it's beautiful!"

"You've had your camera so long, I thought it was time for an update. And the salesperson said that it was very good for everything you might need."

She hugged him tight before nudging him to open his gift from her. He did, and he pulled it out, looking at it with awe and wonder. "Is this really…?"

It was a baseball from the '73 World Series signed by Reggie Jackson, her dad's hero when he was growing up in Northern California. "They told me it was from the game that you went to with Grandpa."

"Sweetheart, this is perfect." He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

Veronica started to go over all the technical specs of her new camera when her father cleared his throat. "So, what prompted this?"

"What?" she asked, distracted.

"This dinner. It's not exactly like you to throw a party like this."

She glanced up from her camera to see a look of furrowed worry on her father's face and couldn't help but smile. "No, I guess not seeing as everyone is reacting with stunned disbelief. I had some visitors last night. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I'm not sure I was conscious at the time." She raised a hand to stop him from interrupting with his startled expression. "Nothing nefarious, Dad. But these weren't people who could just drop by. It was Lilly, and Meg. And Felix Toombs," she said, noticing Weevil listening out of the corner of her eye, "and for some strange reason, Lamb. Anyway, they hinted that maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for me spend more time with my loved ones. Hence, the dinner."

Her dad just stared at her for a second, like he couldn't tell if she was joking or not. He settled on smiling. "Well, it was a good dinner, Veronica. Maybe it's something we should do more often." Standing up, he ruffled her hair before joining Alicia and Darrell in cheering Wallace on.

"Felix, huh?" Veronica turned around to find Weevil at her elbow.

"Yeah."

His eyes weren't quite meeting hers. "Was it just a dream?"

She shrugged. "It could have been, logically, it probably was. But it seemed really real to me." On sudden impulse, she laid her hand on his. "And if it wasn't a dream, then he really loves you, and he's watching over you, and he wants to make sure you don't try to be the stoic guy, never asking for help when you need it and pushing people who care about you out of your life."

Raising an eyebrow, he said, "I'm pretty sure Felix didn't know the meaning of 'stoic'."

"Well, I might have put it in my words, but the sentiment's the same."

He smiled. "All right, I'll do my best. Coming from you, though, it's kind of like the pot and the kettle."

"I know. I'm gonna try, too."

"Weevil, Ronnie, you're up!" Dick shouted.

Weevil grinned at her. "You're going down, Mars."

"Bring it on, Navarro," she said, joining the rest of the gang. "Bring it on."


End file.
